


Beauty and the Beast: Duck Style

by xxpurpleshadowsxx



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 06:50:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18544510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxpurpleshadowsxx/pseuds/xxpurpleshadowsxx
Summary: So I’ve attempted to start writing a Beauty and the Beast AU inspired by tricia-morvill on tumblr, so they are the one to blame for this. This is just a short snippet for a fic i may-or-may not finish. Enjoy.





	Beauty and the Beast: Duck Style

The story begins with three good friends who loved Christmas and celebrated each year at the home of one of the friends; a resplendent manor, which was carefully and wonderfully decorated by the many servants working there. This young man adored the treasured traditions that the trio had bonded over, to the point of frustration if he was not able to enjoy them to the same standard he had for many years before.  
Alas, two of those friends passed away, leaving the last distraught. He began to live in the past, responding angrily to anyone who tries to pull him out of his miserable stupor, causing many of his servants to leave. Eventually, his obsession with what once was changed him physically into a Wendigo, a malcontent spirit, cursed to be ostracized and trapped by his own misery, his own umbrella, a gift from long ago, a token of his obsession, manifesting a curse upon the rest of the manor, turning the remaining inhabitants into ghosts, bound to the house and suspended in time for years, the land around being trapped in eternal winter. The only way to break the curse was for the Wendigo to let go of his obsession with the past.

Many years later, a young Scot would move to a small village not far from the the haunted manor. This is his story.

Scrooge smiled as he jogged down the path from his small cabin to the village proper. It was a day like any other since the morning he had come to Duckburg; cold, boring and full of the same people he’d met a long time ago. Still he went along in a good mood, a basket with a small book inside in one hand and a small bag of money in the other.  
As he slowed to a brisk walk, the rest of the village was beginning to wake up.  
The baker passed by, as he always did, with the same sort of coarse bread he made every day.

“Mornin’ Scrooge!”  
“Good morning, sir.”  
Scrooge approached, money ready.  
“The usual then?”  
“Unless you have something new,” Scrooge grinned.  
“‘Fraid not. Unless you’re willing to spend a bit more for my better work.”

Scrooge shrugged and handed him the usual amount.  
“So, anything planned for today?” The baker asked, handing Scrooge a loaf.  
“Nope, the mine’s closed until they can find a safer way to unblock the tunnel. I’m just out for some food, oh and to return this book to Mrs Quackfaster. It’s about a beanstalk and an ogre who-”  
“Yeah, that’s nice kid. I’d better go before the bread gets too cold.”  
The baker balanced his tray in one hand and clapped Scrooge on the back. The young duck shrugged as the baker left and continued on his way.

The street around him began to fill up with people going about their day, until he had passed out of ear-shot of course.  
“There goes Scrooge-”  
“Such an odd young man-”  
“So distracted-”  
“Only when he has nothing to do. Guy’s as hard a worker as any of us down in the mine-”

Scrooge dawdled through town, stopping at stalls that where just opening and carefully negotiating prices and distractedly jumping out of the way of carts and horses.  
He eventually made his way to the small library.

“Morning, Mrs Quackfaster,” Scrooge grinned. “I’m here to return the book I borrowed.”  
Mrs Quackfaster, possibly one of the only people in town as strange as Scrooge or his room mate, turned away from her dusting. No one was actually sure if she’d ever been married and was perhaps a widow, or if she simply called herself Missus to avoid being bothered over living alone.  
“Finished already, Scrooge?” She asked, taking the book and checking for any damage. Quackfaster was very particular about her precious books being properly cared for. It was probably just as well that Scrooge was her only patron.  
“I couldn’t put it down! Have you got anything new?”  
“Not since yesterday,” she chuckled.  
“Although, a ship just docked at the harbor this morning, so you might get to hear some new stories. They’ll be as true as anything you’ll find in here.”  
“Maybe I should write some of them down so you can finally have some new material in here.”  
“Not with your hand writing you won’t.”  
“Heh, well in any case I’ll be needing something to do for now so I’ll just borrow this.”  
“That one? But you’ve read it twice.”  
“It’s me favorite! Daring knights, treasure, adventure-! Gah!” As he spoke, Scrooge leaped onto a ladder leaning against a shelf. Unfortunately, with that last exclamation he he over-balanced and fell, bringing the ladder with him.  
He picked himself up with a nervous grin as Quackfaster glowered at him.  
“Well, I should be going,” he said, putting the ladder back where it was and picking up his groceries. “Need to make sure Gyro eats today and all that,” with a wave of his coonskin cap, Scrooge hopped out the door before Quackfaster could give him a piece of her mind.

Scrooge settled his basket’s handle in the crook of his arm and opened the book, and let himself be sucked into another world as he sauntered back to his cabin.  
“That boy is strange-”  
“Oh, no question-”  
“Always has his beak in a book if he has the time-”  
“Makes him look all dreamy too-”  
“You haven’t seen him after sailors visit-”  
“Listens to all their nonsense. Regular visitors always ask after him-”  
“Can’t say I blame them. He’s quite easy on the eyes-”  
Scrooge remained oblivious to the various comments of the villagers, wandering down the street and narrowly dodging obstacles without a fuss.


End file.
